


A Lucky Break

by hardboiledbaby



Category: Nero Wolfe - Stout
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardboiledbaby/pseuds/hardboiledbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate tag for "Murder is Corny"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lucky Break

After Cramer left, Wolfe sat and glowered for a while. Finally I said, "Well, that was a lucky break. Your subconscious deserves a medal, although it did cut things a little too close for comfort. Dramatic flair is all well and good, but personally, I could have done with a bit less of the drama."

All of a sudden, he had me by the arm and was hauling me to my feet. Damn, he can move fast when he wants to. I hadn't even seen him leave his chair.

"It would have been you." It wasn't a question, but I nodded and answered it anyway.

"I'd have taken the delivery, so yeah, I would have opened the box." I shrugged, making it as casual as I could. "Like I said, a lucky break. I'd be hard to replace, if I do say so myself."

"Don't be flippant," he snapped. His fingers tightened like a vice. "Inspector Cramer was right. By warning McLeod as I did, I deliberately forced his hand. The man was a blackguard, but I am an arrogant ass."

This close up, I could see past the scowl, at how shaken he really was, and it startled me. I started to protest, "You flushed out a murderer and you prevented major structural damage to the brownstone—not to mention to the people inside it. I—"

"No. I didn't think it through, what his reaction might be, until it was nearly too late. It was unmitigated conceit on my part, and it almost cost...."

His hand shifted from my arm to my shoulder. I could feel all the tension wound up in him in that fierce grip. It was as though the disaster he had managed to avert was still looming over us. I'd never seen him this way, and I think it scared me more than the dynamite had. But along with the fear, I felt... something else. Something I had felt before, but had never acknowledged, never dared hope.

I found myself babbling. "I guess breaking in a new house and a new assistant at the same time would have been something of an inconvenience for you. It's too bad about the corn, but maybe we can find another farmer before the season ends, one who's maybe not a cold-blooded killer, who'll be willing to put up with your—"

"Shut up, Archie," he growled. His right hand came up as though to actually clamp over my mouth, but it stopped short and hovered just in front of me. There was uncertainty in his face now, and a roil of other emotions I instantly realized were a mirror of my own. That's when I figured it out.

I met his hand with mine. He blinked, but before he could pull it away I turned into it, until my cheek rested against his palm. I waited and watched. When his eyes changed, I knew that everything had changed; in that one moment, that one gesture.

For once, words seemed to fail him, or maybe he just knew there were no words for this. His hand, cupped warm against my face, said all that needed to be said, and told me all I needed to know.


End file.
